First Year
by Wren Gebel
Summary: It's Barty Crouch Jr's first year at Hogwarts. Barty struggles to fit in, but he may have found someone to help him. ONE-SHOT


**A/N: Written for round 5 of the QLFC. I'm Keeper for the Wimbourne Wasps and my prompt this time was to write about a character in the their first year of Hogwarts, but the character had to be the same as my teammates. We picked Barty Crouch Jr. It wasn't easy!**

Young Barty Crouch Jr sat with his back against the rough bark of his favourite tree along the shoreline of the lake with a book in his lap and a cloak wrapped tight around his torso. The late autumn air made him shiver, still he sat in the crisp breeze and watched the tiny dots that were Quidditch players drift above the pitch, looking very much like gnats from where he was. He liked to come out to the tree and study while the players practiced. Whenever his eyes grew weary and tired of looking at the pages, he'd look up and watch to brooms zoom in the distance.

When he arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, only two months ago, he was disappointed to learn that, as a first year, he wasn't allowed to tryout for the Quidditch team. He vowed to himself that next year he'd tryout. Quidditch fascinated him even though he hardly knew if he was any good or not.

He'd written to his mother a few weeks ago, begging for a broom to practice on over the summer. He was more than delighted when she wrote back, fully supporting his new found passion.

The Quidditch players flew like geese over the pitch. He sighed contently. He loved Hogwarts. Though he missed his mother at times, Hogwarts gave him a feeling of home that he'd never had. It made his chest warm just by thinking about it.

The sound of footsteps on brittle grass brought his attention away from the pitch and to a figure headed his way. He recognized the person as Juliana Mathews, a Slytherin in his year, by the darkness of her hair and the paleness of her skin. This was the part of Hogwarts he hated.

Though he loved being sorted into Ravenclaw, he had had no idea everyone else would suddenly think he was their personal tutor. Barty was smart. Really smart. And he knew that, but he also knew he was horrible at helping other people. It was why he often did things alone and hadn't made any real friends yet. The problem was, everyone else also knew he was a very intelligent boy and could care less if he was unfriendly and moody as long their homework got done and they didn't have to do much.

Juliana came to stand over him, her eyes peaking over the edge of her green and silver scarf like two little brown suns coming over the horizon line. Barty looked up at her in almost disgust, waiting for her to beg, like they _always_ did, for help.

When she didn't say anything he furrowed his brow and snapped, "what?"

She looked down at the book that was wrapped tightly in her arms. "I was wondering if you could help explain something?" she mumbled from behind her scarf.

He rolled his eyes and shut his book with a snap. "What?"

"I don't understand how this potion works," she said, sitting beside him and cracking open her potions book to a simple drought they had brewed a few days ago in class. "Why does it say the wormwood is optional here, but then later it says to add more?"

"It depends on how strong you want it," he said simply. "The wormwood has to be there for the potion to work, but if you don't want it as strong you don't add it at the beginning."

"Oh," she said, looking at the page. "You're really smart, Barty," she told him.

He cocked a brow at her. "Okay." He didn't know what to say. He'd already known he was intelligent, just no one had bothered to tell him that yet.

"I bet you're smarter than all the Ravenclaws," she continued.

He nodded slowly. "Probably." He wasn't intentionally bragging. To him, the House of the Intelligent wasn't all that intelligent. Why else would third and fourth year students be asking him for help with their homework? It was probably why some of the upper years seemed to dislike him so much. They felt inadequate that a first year was better than them, knew more than them. Though it was hardly his fault. No matter how much he wanted to be liked, he wasn't about to play dumb just to please them. True, he wanted friends, but he wasn't that desperate. He did enjoy solitude and quiet time to be alone with his mind.

"I bet you're smarter than anyone in Hogwarts! In any year!"

"Maybe." He was very intelligent, but he wouldn't bet he was the smartest. There were very gifted students in Hogwarts. He knew of three Gryffindors in particular that seemed to not be lacking in wit; always causing mischief and mayhem. If they payed as much attention to their school work as they did to making trouble Barty was sure they would be some of the best students that had gone through Hogwarts.

She stood up abruptly with a swish of her cloak. "Thank you," she told him sweetly. "You should hang out with us Slytherins some time. My friends and I are going to the first Quidditch game if you'd like to go with us."

He thought about it for a moment. It was his first invitation from someone to do something other than homework or studying. And he did love the idea of seeing the first Quidditch game with people he might be able to call friends. "Okay," he said with a nod.

Juliana's eyes brightened with a smile over her scarf and she skipped away. Barty looked back down at his book, finding the page he was on and making a mental note to owl his mother the news that he'd possibly begun his first friendship. That would make her delighted. She knew just how difficult it was for him to forge any kind of relationship with his peers. Maybe because he truly didn't see them quite as equals but more as whiny, childish, and boring, but most of all, they weren't challenging. They couldn't even keep up with the conversations he found interesting. Maybe this time it would be different. The Slytherins hadn't seemed so bad. She hadn't begged nor whined for help. She had seemed truly grateful for his help. Maybe this time he could finally make a friend. He smiled down at his book.


End file.
